Culture Shock
by XtinethePirate
Summary: The two cultures collide! Japan vs. America in restaurant form! How will Duo and Heero make out? Rated for mild language and some shonenai


The best Chinese food EVER is in Sienna, Italy. Trust me. Except maybe China.... but that's not definite. Anyhoo, I am still the only person in my family civilised enough to use chopsticks. Idea struck. Here it is. You have been warned.

A big warm hug and thank you to Sunny Dragoness, for writing me such a lovely and detailed review, and to her sister astheblackrosewilts, for reviewing me over her sister, thus arousing her—her sister's—interest in my stories. Did that make any sense? No? Oh well....  
  
**DISCLAIMER**: I own the world. Why not Gundam Wing?? ((ha ha, gotcha! As we all know, the World was destroyed by Vorgon ships to make a hyperspace bypass or something.... Has anyone else read the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy?? Nevermind....))  
  
**This story has some mild shônen-ai themes. If you don't like that, I don't wanna hear it. Go read something else.**  
  
August 3 2004

**Culture Shock**

Duo stared at the Japanese pilot, cobalt eyes wide, lips pouting.

_"Please_, Heero--?"

"No."  
  
"But I'm starving!"  
  
"Not until you learn to be civilised."  
  
Duo gaped at him in indignation. "Ex_cuse_ me?" He was more than ready to argue that when one person was wasting away due to the actions of a _certain other person_ – who shall remain nameless—it was that _certain other _nameless _person_ who was _clearly_ being uncivilised.

"Uncivilised?" he demanded again, just to make sure.  
  
Heero eyed the objects in question that lay on the table between them. "These are _not_ civilised," he muttered to himself darkly, poking distrustfully at one of them.

With a soft _ting_, the fork clattered to the floor.

The knife followed.

Heero smirked. Mission Complete.

Duo lunged for the fallen utensils, only to be brought up short by the unmistakable metallic '_click'_ of Heero's gun being cocked.

Duo scowled. "How do you _do_ that?"

Heero was nonplussed. "Do what?"

The briaded boy directed his glare at the innocent looking chopsticks resting at ease in the Japanese pilot's right hand, effortlessly transporting food to his mouth while the other kept the gun rock-steady. It just wasn't fair.

He sighed heavily, staring down at his empty plate with mournful eyes. Dishes of steaming Asian food lay before him, tantalising his eyes with their colours, his nose with their delicious scent.

His stomach growled.

All that stood between him and the blissful joys of pigging out was the presence of two unassuming tapered wooden sticks – coupled with the flat blue stare of his partner.

The gun was an additional _un_—incentive....

One last ploy, then....

"Heero...."Duo purred softly, glancing up at the silent pilot through chestnut bangs with a seductive smirk. "If you'll let me have something to eat now, then later, I'll let you...." He left the sentence hanging.

"No."

"Dammit! Shit, Heero; WHY THE HELL NOT?" The American shouted, his coy routine forgotten as he slammed his hand down on the table.

A frown momentarily ruffled Heero's impassive expression. "Stop being petulant."

Duo made a rude noise, slumping back in his chair and glowering around the restaurant. Quatre had booked the place specifically for them, so the only other diners in the romantically lit room were the other three Gundam pilots. All of whom were making it very definitely obvious that they were definitely _not_ watching this newest battle in an already stormy relationship. Staring down at their expensive food, they made it perfectly clear that they were only concerned with their own part of the restaurant.

Duo stuck his tongue out at them.

Heero glared at the others momentarily, making them focus even _more_ on not paying attention to the two arguing pilots. He sighed.

"This bites." Duo commented sourly, tiliting the chair up on its back legs and balancing precariously.

"Hn."

Duo quickly let the chair fall back to level when Heero tossed his chopsticks down in disgust and reached for his coat.

"Heero?"

"Do whatever you damn well please," the Japanese pilot said flatly, "I'm going home."

"_Shit_." Duo cursed softly, jumping up from his chair and catching his partner's arm swiftly. "Hey, Heero, ole buddy.... Don't leave...."he scuffed his toe against the floor. " I mean...shit.... Aw hell. Look. I'm sorry for being such a prick. Not that you were behaving any better, but still, well, in fact you were being a lot more of a prick than I was Heero, just so you know...."

Heero waited in silence, raising one eyebrow slightly at the American's dubious version of an apology.

Duo sighed, scratching at the back of his neck with a pained expression. "Ok-ok-ok, I'll give those damn chopsticks a shot, ok? But man, Heero, do you owe me BIG time!"

Heero's sarcastic grunt told how likely _that_ was.

Reluctantly, Duo picked up the chopsticks in awkward hands as – with equal reservations – Heero sat down once more.

They stared at each other across the table, opponents seeking any indication of weakness. Heero perched on the edge of his chair, ready to depart at the first sign of idiocy from his friend. Duo, determined against all odds and likelihoods, to not be an idiot. Gazes locked. Neither one giving an inch

A stick clenched into each fist, Duo reached out, hoisting a piece of chicken into the air unsteadily.

Easy does it, slowly, cautiously, closer and closer to his mouth—

It slipped from the chopsticks.

Splatted onto the white table cloth.

Duo frowned.

It was _mocking_ him.

_"Nyah nyah! You can't eat me!!!!"_

He lunged at it again, attempting to wrest it into submission, but he barely managed to lift it from the table before it slid again from his clutches.

Heero rolled his eyes.

Duo's mouth was watering, his stomach rumbling encouragement as he eyed his prey cautiously, poking at it with one stick.

_Aha!_ The action had given him an idea.

Striking swiftly, he impaled the chicken on his chopstick spear, triumphantly carrying his prize back to his mouth ---

He could almost taste it ---

With a soft ripping sound, the piece of meat split in two.

Fell.

And splashed into the small bowl of plum sauce, sending up a sticky shower.

Duo's lower lip trembled slightly. He slumped, defeated and dejected and other words beginning with 'de—', resigned to an evening of stomach pangs and disgusted looks from Heero. His partner had already covered his face with one hand, rising from the table and stalking away.

Some anniversary.

The other pilots were making VERY sure that they weren't watching, as Duo desperately strove to catch someone's eye, to beg a little help.

Every eye was inexorably fixed on anything but Duo, who was trying to beg a little help.

With a sigh, Duo slowly rose to follow his partner, dragging his heels. Heero, of course, would be furious with him now. Duo wanted to just get the yelling part over and done with, so they could move on to icy silence....

Heero was leaning against the back wall of the room, shadowed where the dim ambience of the orange lights didn't quite reach. His face was turned away from Duo.

"Ano...Heero?" Duo tried, gingerly putting one hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Duo...." Heero shook his head, turning to face him. "That was absolutely _pathetic._"

He was laughing, shaking with it, one hand pressed against his lips to suppress his mirth. With the other, he reached out to wipe away a spot of sauce from the bewildered Duo's nose.

Duo blinked.

Heero _never_ laughed.

He never even _smiled._ It was an unwritten rule.  
  
((The odd, maniacal cackle in the heat of battle didn't count.))

_He never, **ever**, laughed._

"You ok?" Duo queried, taking a half step backwards. "You aren't mad at me?"

Heero shook his head, Prussian eyes dancing as he pulled Duo into his arms and kissed him.

"You baka," he chided softly, whispering the words against Duo's lips; tugging the boy's braid lightly.

Duo smiled, wrapping his arms around Heero's neck to bring him closer; lips parting under the gentle pressure of his lover's tongue.

Heero pulled him back, deeper into the shadows, as their kiss grew more impassioned; Heero's hands sliding down to undo the button on Duo's pants....

Duo's stomach growled loudly.

Startled, the boys sprang apart, the American thumping his stomach in irritation.

Heero chuckled, taking his partner's hand and kissing his knuckles softly. "Later." He promised, as Duo sighed and leaned towards him again. With a fond smile, he deftly did the button up on the American pilot's pants, ignoring the mumbled protests.

"Come here," he began, tugging Duo back towards the table, "I'll show you how to do this...."  
  
-------

Quatre glanced up from his dinner, sensing the sudden absence of tension in the air.

He smiled at the sight that greeted his eyes.

His two friends were done arguing. Now Heero had pulled his chair around next to Duo's, his hands cupped over the braided boys as he tried, with infinite patience, to teach him how to use chopsticks. Duo's attempts were marked solely by the increasing amount of sweet-and-sour sauce slashed on the table cloth and their chins.

They were both smiling.

---- 1 month later ----

Heero poked the cellophane wrapper warily, eyeing its contents as if he expected them to jump out at him at any moment. 

"And this is _food_?" he demanded once again, certain that Duo was trying to trick him.

"Ye...Yes...yes sir," the pasty-faced boy behind the counter spluttered.

"Come _on_, Heero! You're making a scene...." Duo whined, tugging at thee glowering pilot's upper arm. "Besides, I'm HUNGRY!"  
  
"You're always hungry," Heero answered with an exasperated smile. However, he allowed himself to be led away, Duo still clinging to his arm. ((He was enjoying the feel of Heero's muscles to let go....))

Sitting down in a both by the windows, Heero glanced, perplexed, around the restaurant – if it could truly be called that. It was full of noisy, squalling children; teens acting bored to look cool; adults yelling into cell phones, gesturing wildly; adults yelling at their squalling children or cool and bored teens; adults chattering and laughing...it was dizzying. They were all eating this...whatever it was... as if it were some delectable first class delicacy.

He poked at the bun again.

The name still defied him. There was absolutely nothing that resembled ham in this 'hamburger'; and yes, it was big, but 'Big Mac'? Who the hell was Mac, and what had he done to get this greasy excuse for food named after him? It seemed more a punishment than anything else....

Dismayed, Heero cast around for some form of utensils. He was certain beyond a doubt that the place wasn't civilised enough to have chopsticks. (( It was barely civilised enough to have discovered fire.))

Trying to eat a "Big Mac" with them would be impossible anyways. However, there weren't even knives and forks to be had!

"Duo...how am I supposed to eat this?"

"Hmmmm?" The American boy glanced up from the fires he had been inhaling. "With your mouth, Heero."  
  
The Japanese pilot waited, counting slowly to ten.

Duo grinned, "You eat it with your fingers, Heero."  
  
"You're lying."

"Ah ah ah!!" Duo wiggled one finger in the air, remonstrating. "I _never_ lie."  
  
"You said this was food," Heero said bluntly, "That obviously was false."

Duo grinned at him, turning back to his food with relish.

Heero blinked, nose wrinkling in distaste as he picked up his own hamburger.

It was impossible! The thing was bigger than his mouth! Bigger than any _human_ mouth, to be precise, even including Duo. There was no possible to take a bite out of it. The proportions involved wouldn't work....

Grimacing, he set it back down, opting for one of the 'fries' instead, mimicking Duo by licking the grease off his fingers.

Duo was watching him anxiously.

"Do you like it?"

"Ah..." Heero stalled for time, taking a sip of the gigantic soft drink Duo had purchased to rid his mouth of the sickening taste of pure fat.

His eyes widened.

He swallowed with great difficulty.

The stuff was pure sugar.

...no wonder Duo was always so hyper....

"_This _is American culture?" he asked weakly, hoping to divert the eager boy's attention, though he almost choked on the last word.

'_Culture?!_ A culture comprised of fried food in three minutes or less, loud restaurants, and aggressively friendly waiters who were pushy and asked stupid questions. If he has _wanted_ "fries with that", he would have asked! He had almost broken the stupid clerks arm.... Even Europe wasn't this bad....'

But he kept his expression carefully neutral as Duo nodded happily.

"Yep! I figured, you know, we did Japan last month, so now it was time to show me ole buddy how the Western World works!"

Heero forced a smile, wondering how Japan had ever managed to fall to this, the "western world" during World War II. It defied belief.

"...so," Duo continued animatedly, "_do_ you like it?"

Surprised by the abrupt question – and the fact that the baka had managed to stay on one topic – forced Heero into startled honesty.

"No."

"Oh." The smile died on Duo's face, and he slumped, crestfallen, against the plastic seat.

"Well, it's not that bad...." Heero struggled.

Duo laughed shortly, pushing his own food away and staring down at the table morosely.

Heero panicked. Duo wasn't eating.  
  
There was _food_ in front of him, and he _wasn't eating it._

Helplessly, he stumbled onwards.

"Well, it _is_, Duo, in point of fact it's God-awful.... oh shit," he trailed off into awkward silence, drumming his fingers against the table as he strove to find someway of making amends. He wasn't equipped for this; battles and injuries he could deal with, not fast-food restaurants and his lover's bruised feelings.

Duo poked listlessly at the remains of his hamburger.

"Aw hell, " Heero muttered.

He grabbed the burger.

Closed his eyes.

Took a huge bite.

Heero opened his eyes to find Duo smiling oddly at him, as though he was trying to suppress a laugh.

"Heero, my man, you should _see_ your face! Is it _really_ that bad?"

Still attempting to chew the enormous mouthful of grease and artificial flavouring, Heero nodded, swallowed thickly, and pulled a face; desperately trying not to gag.

Chortling, Duo reached out with a napkin to wipe a smear of ketchup off Heero's face.

"Baka," he whispered fondly.

A moment passed.... then:  
  
"Are you going to finish that?"

* * *

OWARIIIII!!!!  
  
Tee hee! Forgive an ex-pat's indulgence in bashing fast food restaurants, but their insidious evil is spreading to infect Europe and the rest of the world!!! NOOOOOOO!!!!  
  
This is one of the first Heero/Duo fics I've written, in fact, the _first_ dealing solely with these two. Please R&R and let me know what you think!

Love Xtine the PIRATE!!! Arrrrr....


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